The Moment Things Changed
by Taylor Hayes
Summary: The shoot-out at the village, by General Marquez, from El's POV. Oneshot. Lots of Spanish, so use a translator.


**The Moment Things Changed**

He was tired. Tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of working so hard to keep Carolina and their _bebé chica_ (little girl) safe. He had had enough. He wanted to put the old case away.

So when they found the little town, where all the people were a loose-knit _familia_ (family), and the source of income was crafting guitars, he decided it was a sign. It was perfect.

They moved into the quarters off the big, old _iglesia_ (church) as caretakers. The quiet and the peace were a blessing. And the dusty town's inhabitants welcomed El and his wife and daughter easily. When the village children found him playing an old lullaby on a newly finished instrument, they grabbed his hands and pulled him to the town square. He sat at the edge of the well and played and sang for hours, while the children danced. By the time the hot sun dipped over the horizon, the entire town was having a _fiesta_(celebration). Food and laughter and games popped up everywhere. And always, in the background, was the sweet sound El's fingers coaxed from his (guitar) _guitarra_, as he watched Carolina and _poco_ (little) Selene smile and dance.

He could not remember ever being happier.

And for a time, they could even believe they were safe. That no one would come looking for them. That things would finally work out right.

He should have known better. After all, "_Árbol que crece torcido jamás se tronco endereza_". (The tree that grows crocked will never straighten its trunk.)

He was on the edge of town when it all went to hell. He heard the yelling and the smashing of windows and flesh. Women were shrieking and the men were yelling angrily, and a little girl was screaming, over and over "_Deja a mi mamá sola!_" (Leave my mother alone!)

He knew that they had been discovered. But how? _El diablo_ (the devil) himself could not have found them. Someone had given them up. He swore, _por su honor_ (on my honor), that whoever it was would be made to pay. He would find them, if he had to hunt them to the end of the earth.

Then all that was forgotten as he ran. His guitar case, _los condenados _() case that had gotten him mixed up in all of this to begin with, was in the church. He would never make it in time. They had finally felt safe enough for him to put it away. And he would regret that for the rest of his life.

El ran towards _Plaza de la Ciudad_ (), desperately, fighting the need to scream. He arrived just in time to see the _soldados_ (soldiers) fire on the crowd. People were falling everywhere. He knew he should care, but all he could care about were Carolina and Selene. They were his life. They had made him put his _pasado_ (past) behind him. They were _todo_ () to him.

And then he saw them. Carolina stood tall, protecting and hiding Selene behind her. And facing them was _General Márquez_.

No. No! _Por favor, Dios, que éste sea un sueño!_ (Please, God, let this be a dream!)

As the bullets mowed down Carolina, and Selene, his little _querida_ (sweetheart) Selene, began to cry, El ran forward.

He felt the first slug slam into him, feeling like_ atoro bravo_ (a bull) had plowed into his side. The_ balas _(bullets) kept coming, and he went down. But he came up, again and again, as though he wasn't _heridos_ (injured), as though he felt no pain.

He was far too late. When finally he lay, his blood soaking into the _tierra_ (ground), he closed his eyes and let the tears come.

_Me ha fallado. Me ha fallado._ ()

A soldier came over and kicked him in the ribs, and El could not even move.

He let himself sink away, following the _rio_ (river) of his blood away from himself and his _inútil_ (useless) body. He was gone.

And then he wasn't.

El woke to a potent combination of _entumecimiento_ (numbness) and pain. He tried to remember...

And then he didn't want to.

_Ellos están muertos. Mi querida familia está muerta_. (They are dead. My family is dead.)

And he remembered who had killed them. The banked fire in his heart began to _rugir_ (rage) and burn, with the force and fires of _del infierno_ (Hell).

He would help rebuild the village, help the _familias_ (families) of those that remained. He would make things right.

Then El Mariachi would take up his _funda de la muerte_ ()and he would kill _General Márquez_.

This was now his _objetivo_ (goal). This was now his life.

_¡lo juro!_ (I swear!)

**fin.**


End file.
